The shift from strangers with an arranged marriage to partners in crime happened in just a few months.

It wasn't a single gesture that finalised their decisions, but a series of small, honest moments.

For Siya, it was the day she saw Raghav helping a street vendor fix a broken cart wheel, his expensive leather jacket tossed aside, laughing and chatting as if he'd known the man for years.

She realized his loudness wasn't just ego, it was a genuine love for life. She had said yes because, she felt that she found a man who would never let her feel alone in the silence.

For Raghav, it happened when he failed a major business pitch and sat at a park bench with a sullen look.

Siya didn't offer him a pep talk. She simply sat beside him, handed him a bar of chocolate, and said, 'You're allowed to be quiet sometimes, Raghav. I'm here.'

He said yes because he realized he didn't have to perform for her, she was the only one who actually saw him and understood his silence.

The wedding was a blur of energy and grace. From a Mehendi where Raghav tried (and failed) to dance as well as Ishaan, to a Sangeet where Riya and Ishaan's chemistry stole the show, it all resulted in a beautiful ceremony where two worlds finally became one.

The heavy scent of tuberoses and jasmine filled the decorated master bedroom of the Oberoi mansion. Siya sat on the edge of the large bed, her heavy bridal lehenga weighing her down almost as much as her nerves.

The constant bickering of the past months felt like a distant memory, replaced by the reality of being a wife. He was her husband now.

The door creaked open, and Raghav stepped in. He had ditched his heavy sherwani stole and was loosening his collar, looking exhausted but still carrying that signature spark in his eyes. He noticed her stiff posture and the way she was clutching her dupatta.

He didn't walk toward the bed immediately. Instead, he went straight to the dressing table and picked up a bottle of water.

"Waise, agar tumhara puri raat aise hi baithne ka plan tha, I should have just married a statue. At least statue mera malai kofta toh nhi churata."

(If you planned on sitting like that the entire night, I should have just married a statue. At least statue won’t have stolen my malai kofta.)

Siya looked up, her lips twitching in amusement despite her heartbeat.

"Maine nhi churaya. You were too busy giving a speech to the photographers to notice your own plate."

(I didn’t steal.)

Raghav walked over, sitting on a velvet ottoman across from her rather than on the bed, giving her space.

"Speeches are important, Siya! Logo ko pata hone chahiye tum kitni lucky ho. Imagine the headlines. 'Local Hero Marries Professional Roaster. City in Shock.'"

(People should know how lucky you are.)

"The only shock is that you managed to keep quiet during the pheras for more than ten minutes."

Raghav laughed softly, his gaze dropping to her heavy jewellery.

"Wo toh pandit ji ke darr ki wajah se, honestly. But hey... tum sach mai bhut khubsurat lag rhi ho. And I'm not saying that because I'm supposed to say it. I'm saying it because I can't seem to look anywhere else."

(That was because of the priest’s fear, honestly. But hey…you really look beautiful.)

Siya felt the familiar heat rise to her cheeks, but the crushing nervousness began to melt.

"Thank you, Raghav. You don't look too bad yourself... for a background dancer."

Raghav gasped, clutching his chest.

"Background dancer? Even on our wedding night? Aaj toh mera dil mat todo!"

(Don’t break my heart atleast today!)

He stood up and walked closer, reaching out tentatively. He forwarded his hand and spoke softly.

"Come here. Let me help you with those heavy earrings before your ears actually fall off. I can't have a half-eared bride, it ruins my aesthetic."

He joked, trying to lighten the tension in the room. Siya hesitated for a second, then nodded, placing her hand on his. 

As he stood behind her, his fingers carefully working on the clasps, she could see his reflection in the mirror. He was being incredibly gentle, his usual loud energy replaced by a focused, quiet care.

"Raghav?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you for... the joke. I was actually really nervous."

Raghav met her eyes in the mirror, his hands pausing.

"I know. That's why I have a lifetime membership in the 'Keep Siya Smiling' club. It's a very exclusive group. Current members: Me. Future members: Our kids, probably, but I'll be the president."

Siya laughed, a soft, relaxed sound.

"Aapka sach mai kuch nhi ho skta. You're impossible, Raghav."

(Nothing could be done of you.)

Raghav finished unhooking the second earring and set it on the table. He leaned down, his breath warm against her ear as he whispered.

"Impossible is my middle name. But since we're married now... you can just call me 'The Best Choice You Ever Made.'"

"Don't push your luck, Mr. Oberoi."

"Luck? This isn't luck, Mrs. Oberoi. Ye destiny hai. Now, go change into something comfortable."

(This is destiny.)

Siya stood up, feeling lighter than she had all day. She walked toward the dressing room, but paused at the door, glancing back at him.

"Raghav?"

"Yeah?"

"The malai kofta really was better on your plate."

Raghav grinned, throwing a silk cushion toward her.

"Chorni! Get out of here before I bill you for the catering!"

(Thief!)

The morning after the wedding, the Oberoi house was buzzing with chatter. According to tradition, it was time for Siya's Pehli Rasoi, the first time the new bride cooks for her in-laws.

Siya was in the kitchen early, looking beautiful but slightly overwhelmed by the size of the pots and pans.

She was used to cooking for four people, not the small army that was seated in the living room of the Oberoi house. She was carefully measuring out sugar for the sooji ka halwa when she felt a presence behind her.

She took a piece of cashew to check if it was roasted right when a pair of arms reached around her, not to hug her, but to playfully snatch a piece of cashew from her prep bowl.

"Oye! Chori pakdi gayi. You're eating the ingredients before the dish is even ready?"

(The thief is caught.)

Siya jumped slightly, turning around to find Raghav leaning against the counter, looking very energetic for someone who had just woken up.

"Raghav! Aap yahan kya kar rahe hain? Bahar jaaiye, everyone is waiting in the living room."

(What are you doing here? Go outside, everyone is waiting in the living room.)

"Arre, I am the kitchen supervisor. Meri permission ke bina, namak ka ek daana bhi yaha se waha nhi hota."

(Not even a grain of salt moves without my permission.)

"Main sab sambhal lungi. Please bahar jaiye."

(I will handle. Please leave.)

Raghav didn't budge. Instead, he picked up a wooden spoon and started air-drumming on the counter.